


"You've been in quite the mood today."

by CallmeG



Series: The Merlin Files [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (Brief description of), At first it's a shit show then I remember how to write, Bonding, Damn that's a MOOD, Gen, M/M, Set season 1 somewhere I believe, Sick Arthur, Sick Arthur Pendragon, Sickfic, Vomiting, emeto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 06:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallmeG/pseuds/CallmeG
Summary: Arthur has been a busy, bossy, mean Prince all day today. A step into his chambers before dinner is served tells Merlin why.It could be considered Merthur if you squint, but it could also be considered gen. Whatever floats your boat :)
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon/Merlin (implied), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Merlin Files [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548934
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	"You've been in quite the mood today."

**Author's Note:**

> At this point, what fandoms do I NOT write for?  
Special thanks to AnxiousCoffee, for giving me some great ideas and a platform to bounce thoughts off yet again. I owe you one, mate.

"You've been in quite the mood today."  
Arthur's chambers were eerily quiet despite it being close to dinnertime, and when Merlin's comment was met with silence despite having heard the doors just slam he huffed under his breath.  
"Arthur-"  
He was interrupted by a retching noise he knew a little too well. Too many nights with the wine, he supposed.  
Merlin swiped the pail he'd been using to scrub the floors earlier and dashed to be by Arthur's side near his dining table at the entrance to his chambers.  
Arthur, shaken and pale, attempted to protest against Merlin's offer of help but was met with a protest stronger than his own; Merlin's care. Years without contact when he was feeling down meant Arthur constantly yearned care and love; even the nannies hired during his childhood had been given a firm warning not to show affection to Arthur- Uther believed Arthur would become weak.  
  
So when Arthur was sick on the floor, Merlin felt himself shift to _protect Arthur_ mode. He reached for a cloth and used magic to dampen it more before applying it to the back of Arthur's neck, rubbing across his shoulders in gentle circles.  
"Let it out sire; you'll be on the mend soon."  
Being close to the chamber doors, the guards poked their heads in to enquire if everything was okay. When they realised Merlin was there, they looked to the court physician's ward for direction.  
"Send for Gaius, at once," Merlin directed. Arthur tried to straighten but his upset stomach had drained him of all the energy he had. He collapsed on to a chair, covering his eyes and Merlin rested a hand on his shoulder.  
"I'll prepare your bed."  
"Thank you, Merlin."  
As Merlin walked the short distance to pull the sheets back, he heard a knock.  
"Sire? Merlin?"  
Gaius stood with his supply of medicines, his face falling at the sight of Arthur curled up on his chair, shivering and sweating at the same time. Ever the fatherly, sympathetic figure of the court, Gaius shuffled over to place a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. Gaius was the one person who Arthur would _never_ push away; even his father could be shoved to a degree.  
"Merlin, what is the matter with him?"  
"He's been retching, Gaius, and he has a fever."  
"Hm. Let's get him into bed and I'll see what I can do."  
"He can talk," Arthur grumbled. Merlin looked to Gaius, who appeared amused.  
"My lord, I think it's best if you didn't. Your throat is raw due to retching and I feel you may need your voice when I tell the King what has happened."  
Arthur groaned, covering his eyes.  
"The banquet. I'd forgotten," Merlin commented. Gaius frowned, pressing a hand against Arthur's forehead.  
"That fever is not improving. To bed, sire."  
  
"Gaius, you wished to see me?"  
"Yes, your majesty. It appears Arthur has fallen ill-"  
"-That boy will never learn. I demand that you make up a foul potion to teach him a lesson."  
"Yes, sire."  
Gaius turned to leave the throne room, only for Uther to call after him.  
"Oh, and Gaius?"  
"Yes?"  
"He is to attend the banquet tonight. As long as he is breathing it is still his responsibility to ensure our guests are welcomed."  
"As you wish, your majesty."  
Gaius bowed his head, before leaving the throne room.  
No words could describe Uther's irritation.

Gaius, on the other hand, smiled. His plan was coming together.  
  
"Merlin?"  
"Yes, Arthur?"  
"I'm going to- I'm going to be sick."  
"Here."  
Merlin pulled Arthur by his shirt to sit upright, reaching for the bucket resting at his bedside. When he couldn't feel it he looked down and uttered under his breath, feeling the bucket make contact with his hand. Perfect. Observing Arthur, he was too sick to notice the use of magic right under his nose. Just in time, Merlin handed Arthur the bucket and the Prince retched, a mouthful of disgusting stomach contents making their way out. Merlin covered his nose, looking up when the door opened and Gaius appeared. He had a glint in his eye and after Merlin soothed Arthur into further resting, the elderly man held up a phial.  
"To help with the retching. Uther believes he is faking sick and has requested that I make a concoction to teach Arthur a lesson. If he asks, this is it."  
Gaius popped the cork off, offering it to Merlin.  
"Go on, smell it."  
"What? Gaius-"  
"-smell it. It's some of my finest work."  
Merlin took the phial from his mentor, tentatively holding it to his nose. The smell was revolting, and he felt the need to add to Arthur's deposit in the bucket for a moment.  
"How-"  
"-now, taste it."  
"No way. Gaius that is awful."  
The glint in Gaius' eye returned, and he gestured to the Prince of Camelot, half-asleep beside Merlin.  
" I'll inform Arthur after he's taken it what the plan is."  
"Lying to the king... isn't that considered treason?"  
Merlin raised an eyebrow, surprised when Gaius shrugged.  
"Uther is one of my eldest and dearest friends; if I didn't lie to him you and I would be dead by now."  
Determining Gaius was probably trustworthy (that one time with the Troll potion didn't count), Merlin stuck his finger in the medicine and licked it off. He was pleasantly surprised at the rush of ginger and peppermint leaves and looked to Gaius in surprise.  
"How did you do that?"  
"I'd say magic, but that would have my head."  
When Gaius winked, Merlin had to hold back laughter.  
What a sly old man Gaius was.  
  
The banquet was, as per usual, a night filled with laughter, dancing, and a new addition; Arthur pulling Merlin toward him. The usually cold-hearted Prince declared Merlin was to serve him and only him, and he was not to leave his side. Merlin at first was confused until Arthur retched into the empty pitcher Merlin had been carrying. When he was finished he used the towel on Merlin's waist that was usually used to clean cups to wipe his mouth, thanking Merlin for the refill before returning to conversation with his father and the visiting King from neighbouring lands. Merlin glances down at the pitcher, crinkled his nose, and looked for Gwen. Just as his head popped up she appeared with her own pitcher, and she swapped them out without a word. Now left with an empty pitcher again, Merlin began to panic what would happen if the King were to request a top-up on his rapidly decreasing wine.  
Magic could conjure up wine, right?  
  
"Father, I feel I'm ill. May I retire for the night?"  
"Nonsense Arthur, you still have duties to Camelot-"  
"-But father..."  
Gaius stepped between father and son who looked ready to have a row despite being in a crowded feast, whispering to Uther before nodding at Merlin.  
"Take Arthur back."  
"Stop right there! Gaius you will do as I say, I am king, therefore, you shall obey me."  
"Your majesty I speak with the Prince's wellbeing in mind. He is not well and staying up in his state will cause him to become even more so."  
"Gaius, how many times do I have to say it? Arthur is not ill."  
"Merlin?" Arthur murmured, and Merlin crouched down beside his throne. Arthur clutched his shirt in his hand, refusing to look at his manservant.  
"I fear I may be sick again... or faint."  
And faint he did.  
That got Uther's attention.  
  
"I want guards stationed at the door at all times. Gaius if he allows you you need to care for him, but if not I want Merlin to be in his chambers for the night."  
"Of course, your majesty."  
Gaius nodded, heading for Arthur's bedroom door. Uther's attention turned to Merlin and his son. Arthur was curled up in bed against the headboard and Merlin was trying to convince him to get under his covers.  
"Merlin, what is his condition?"  
"My lord, he needs rest and care."  
Uther waved Merlin off, heading for the door to.  
"See to it that he gets it."  
Before Merlin or Arthur could comment, Uther disappeared out the door. His cape swished behind him, a reminder of his regal-ness, and Merlin reached for the cloth resting on Arthur's forehead to help lower his fever.  
"Has your father always been like this?" He enquired. Arthur looked at him with a fevered confusion in his eyes, and Merlin sighed.  
"Has your father always been heartless unless you're dying in his arms?"  
"I believe so... yes, yes I think."  
Arthur leaned against his headboard, eyes closing.  
"Merlin?"  
"Mm?"  
"Thanks."  
Merlin frowned, refreshing the cloth again.  
"You must be feeling quite ill, Arthur. You never thank me."  
Arthur didn't respond- he'd finally been able to settle and sleep had caught him. Merlin took this as his chance to get comfortable in the chair stationed by Arthur's bedside, reaching for a book Gaius had lent to him about the art of being a physician. He'd been working his way through it steadily, but now seemed as good a time as ever to get through a couple of chapters.  
  
Arthur may have been sleeping, but his mind wasn't. Despite his doze, his feverish haze relived dark moments of his past and displayed unpleasant dreams of the future. Being in the place halfway between sleeping and being conscious, Arthur stretched out a hand, searching for a source of comfort. He felt someone come into contact with him and he sighed, burying his head into his pillow.  
"G-Gaius..."  
"It's Merlin, Arthur. You're overheated still; I'm going to remove your top and trousers."  
In the fog of his mind, Arthur convinced his eyes to open, breaking through the wall into consciousness. Merlin was hovering over him, undoing the lace of the front of his shirt he wore to bed. Arthur's senses went into protection overdrive despite his knowledge it was just Merlin tending to him and he shoved against his servant, surprised when Merlin pinned him down.  
"Arthur. It's just me. You're safe."

“Gaius… Merlin I- I- I want… I want Gaius.”

“It’s too late, Arthur. Gaius will be resting.”

“Father?”

“I believe the King has said he is not to be disturbed tonight,” Merlin murmured. Taking pity on the Prince’s crestfallen look he sat on the edge of the mattress, dabbing at his forehead with the cool cloth.

“My father… he’s the King?”

Arthur looked up to Merlin, confusion clear in his face, and Merlin held back his urge to laugh.

“Yes, Arthur, he has been since before you were born.”

“Right… so that makes me…”

“The Crown Prince of Camelot,” Merlin filled in. Arthur hummed, eyes closing at the feeling of the cold cloth.

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“What if… what if I retch again?”

Merlin frowned, his dabbing coming to a halt. He held Arthur’s arm, feeling his fever.

“Then I’ll clean you up, just as I did last time. And the time before that… and the time before that. Come to think of it, your digestive system should be checked by Gaius.”

“Merlin?”

“Hm, sire?”

“Please… be quiet.”

Arthur groaned, one hand wrapping in a protective motion over his stomach while the other clutched on to the end of Merlin’s shirt. While he observed, Merlin noticed the telltale signs of a potential retch coming; Arthur was sweating worse than he already was, his face had become tinted with a green hue, and his breathing was becoming rapid as though he was trying to control it. Merlin took the bucket from where it was sitting beside his chair, holding it in his lap. Arthur eyed it, hesitantly taking it from his servant. Merlin’s blue eyes darkened and he moved to help Arthur sit up properly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve got this sire; you’re going to be fine soon.”

The retching followed into the early morning. Merlin found Arthur restless, and at one point he had to convince him off the top of his cupboard; how Arthur got there Merlin wasn’t sure and he certainly wasn’t going to ask questions when Arthur was in this state.

And then came the Arthur that Merlin had never encountered; a clingy, insecure Arthur. An Arthur that refused to let Merlin leave his side, an Arthur who begged for Merlin to stay even when he was just sitting in the chair at his bedside.

As sunlight shone into the Prince’s chambers Merlin stirred, a weight against his shoulder startling him from his sleep. His eyes opened and he almost jumped- he would have jumped-

Had Arthur’s head not been in his lap. For the first time since he’d fallen ill, the Prince was sleeping soundly. His breathing was even, his fever had broken, and he seemed content.

The door opened and before Merlin could do anything Uther Pendragon, the King himself, was in the room. He seemed irritated and pointed at Merlin before making a _come here_ motion with his finger. Merlin grimaced, slipping Arthur’s head on to his pillows before making his way to the King. At least Uther had the decency to not wake his son from his slumber, as he pointed at the door.

Merlin had the sinking feeling he was about to be sacked, just like the other carers who had shown compassion toward the Prince. Arthur regaled stories of his childhood when he was drunk, and through those moments Merlin had discovered Uther wanted Arthur to love _him and only him_, and he feared affection shown toward Arthur would make the Prince cold toward him.

“Your majesty-“

“-I should fire you, Merlin.”

Merlin dipped his head. Here it comes.

“But I see that Arthur has grown attached to you, and he is at the age now where he needs to be taking responsibility for the hiring and firing of people under him. It kills me to say it, but… perhaps you’re what Arthur needs to become the King everyone in Camelot dreams of.”

_The King Albion needs_, Merlin noted to himself. Uther raised an eyebrow, and Merlin cleared his throat.

“Thank you, my lord. Please excuse me; I need to attend to your son.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin paused at the door, and the King stiffened.

“I- I do care for my son.”

Then Uther was gone, and Merlin stood at the door for a moment.

What a weird thing for Uther to say.

“Merlin?”

“Good morning, sire.”

Merlin was sitting in the chair again, a stiff back from his hour of sitting there instead of lying on the soft mattress Arthur was lying on. Arthur himself seemed confused as to how he’d made it under his covers, but his frown softened when he saw his manservant move to sit on the edge of the mattress. Arthur found his wrist, squeezing it.

“Thank you, Merlin.”

“Arthur, I must tell you something.”

Arthur looked up, eyebrow raised in a familiar way that told Merlin he had no idea what he was about to say, and Merlin cracked a smile.

“It seems your father does have a heart after all.”

Arthur was still weak, but he was strong enough to whack Merlin upside the head.

Some things never change.


End file.
